Hey friend,

This is the last letter in this series.
And after everything I’ve written to you over these last several months…
I don’t want to begin by teaching you something.
I don’t want to give you another framework.
I don’t want to ask you to fix anything.
I just want to say thank you.
Thank you for taking the chance to say yes.
Thank you for showing up.
Especially when showing up wasn’t easy.
Thank you for doing hard things when the easy option was sitting right there.
Thank you for trusting us.
Thank you for learning to trust yourself.
Thank you for loving deeply.
Thank you for trying again.
Thank you for asking better questions.
And then asking deeper ones.
Thank you for letting us into pieces of your family’s story that aren’t always easy to share.
And personally…
thank you for teaching me more about myself through your stories.
I mean that.

Every family I’ve had the privilege of walking beside has shaped me somehow.
You’ve made me ask better questions.
You’ve made me look deeper.
You’ve made me reconsider things I thought I understood.
You’ve challenged me.
You’ve encouraged me.
You’ve shown me courage.
You’ve shown me what perseverance looks like.
You’ve shown me what parents will do for their kids.
You’ve shown me what love looks like when life gets really hard.
You’ve allowed me to see pieces of the human story that I never could have learned from a textbook.
And I want you to know something:
I won’t let that ripple go to waste.
There’s something I’ve been thinking about since I wrote my first letter to you.
I told you then that I never knew either of my grandpas.
They both died before I was born.
For most of my life, I’ve thought about that through the lens of absence.
What I missed.
The conversations I never had.
The wisdom I never got to hear directly from them.
The relationship that never got the chance to exist.
And that’s all still true.
I wish I knew them.
I really do.

But writing these letters has helped me realize something else.
Maybe I’ve known them in a different way all along.
Not through memories of my own.
Through the lives they built.
Through the stories people passed down.
Through the people they loved.
Through the choices they made.
Through what survived them.
My Grandpa Josef was from Germany.
He and my Oma left Germany during the war looking for the opportunity to build a different life.
And somehow, fate had them meet on a train.
They grew close.
They fell in love.
And he shared a dream with her.
A better life.
Work hard.
Build something.
Give their family opportunities they hadn’t had.
Create something better for the people who would come after them.
And they did.

Grandpa Josef never got to sit across from me and tell me that story.
I never got to ask him what it felt like to leave home.
What he was afraid of.
What he dreamed about.
What he thought his future family might become.
But that dream still reached me.
I am part of what came after.
My Grandpa John lived a very different life.
He was a hardworking farmer.
He and my Grandma Joyce – the joyful, happy-go-lucky grandma I’ve told you about who later struggled with COPD – worked hard to build a wonderful life for their family.
He wanted his kids to have opportunities.
A great education.
Hard life lessons.
Work ethic.
A strong foundation.
And he deeply loved the woman he built that life beside.
Again…
I never met him.
I don’t know the sound of his voice.
I never worked alongside him.
Never sat at his table.
Never got one of those conversations I’ve spent my life wishing I could have with my grandpas.
But I’ve heard the stories.
I’ve been told how proud they would have been of me.
I’ve heard about the men they were.
And somewhere along the way…
something they lived made its way into me.
Think about how incredible that is.
Two men.
Neither one ever met me.
Neither one heard me call them Grandpa.
Neither one watched me play a sport.
Neither one saw me graduate.
Neither one met my wife.
Neither one held any of my four kids.
Neither one ever walked into Live Better Chiropractic.

And yet…
their lives are affecting people inside Live Better right now.
Because they affected people…
who affected me…
and I’d like to think some of the seeds we’ve planted here at Live Better have affected you.
And someday…
maybe something that happens between you and me affects your child.
Or their child.
Or somebody at work.
Or a friend.
Or a person they haven’t even met yet.
And those people may never know my grandfathers’ names.
They may never know mine.
They may never know yours.
And maybe that’s okay.
I think we misunderstand legacy sometimes.
We can make it sound like legacy means people remembering our name.
Maybe sometimes they will.

But I’m starting to think the most meaningful legacy might be much quieter.
Something good keeps moving after you do.
A value.
A story.
Faith.
Work ethic.
Courage.
Love.
A question.
A way of treating people.
A way of raising children.
A willingness to show up.
A refusal to quit on somebody.
A choice to apologize.
A decision to serve.
A moment where somebody felt truly seen.
And then that person carries something from that moment into the next relationship.
Ripple.
We talked about those ripples a couple of messages ago.
I told you I believe small acts of love can begin moving outward.
And after writing all of this, I think I understand that picture even more clearly.
Sometimes the ripple has already begun before we even realize we made one.
Maybe because you’ve built more capacity, you come home and you’re more present with your spouse.
Ripple.
Maybe you respond differently when your child is struggling because instead of immediately asking:
“What’s wrong with you?”
you’ve learned to ask:
“What’s happening underneath what I’m seeing?”
Ripple.
Maybe your child grows up knowing they never had to perform to earn your love.
Ripple.
Maybe somebody tells you something hard and you listen instead of trying to immediately fix them.
Ripple.
Maybe you ask for help.
And because your child watched you ask for help, someday they know it’s okay for them to do the same.
Ripple.
Maybe somebody walks into Live Better feeling like nobody understands what they’re living through…
and you smile at them.
Talk to them.
Encourage them.
Make them feel like they belong.
Ripple.
These things don’t need a platform.
They don’t need a following.
They don’t need thousands of people watching.
Sometimes…
they just need the person standing in front of you.
And that’s how this goes WIDE.
You take what you’re learning and becoming…
and you bring it home.
Into your marriage.
Into your friendships.
Into your work.
Into your church.
Into your school.
Onto the field.
Into your neighborhood.
Into a conversation with somebody who’s having a terrible day.
Into the way you treat a person who can do absolutely nothing for you.
Into the way you serve.
Into the way you love.
Into the way you show up.
WIDE.
Person to person.
Relationship to relationship.
Family to family.
Community to community.
Not because you’re preaching at everyone.
Not because everyone needs to think exactly like you.
Because people experience something different when they’re around a person who genuinely sees them…
loves them…
serves them…
and wants good for them.

And then something happens when we keep living this way long enough.
It starts going DEEP.
Into our kids.
Into their values.
Into what they believe love looks like.
Into how they understand their own worth.
Into how they respond when life gets hard.
Into how they treat their future spouse.
Into the kind of parent they someday become.
Into what their children learn from them.
Into stories told around tables after we’re gone.
Into people we may never meet.
Generations.
And there may be people generations from now who are different because of something that began with a decision you made today.
You’ll never meet them.
They may never know your name.
Do it anyway.
That’s faith to me.
Doing something because you believe it matters…
even when there is no promise you’ll ever see the outcome.
Loving when you can’t guarantee how that love will be received.
Serving when nobody is watching.
Planting something you may never see grow.
Believing that what we choose to build today can create something better for the people who come after us.
My grandfathers did that.
They didn’t know me.
They couldn’t have known exactly what their choices would eventually become.
Grandpa Josef couldn’t know where the dream he shared with my Oma would ultimately travel.
Grandpa John couldn’t know every life that would someday be influenced by the family he worked so hard to provide for.
They lived it anyway.
And somehow…
their faith reached me.
Their choices reached me.
Their love reached me.
Their work reached me.
And now some piece of them is reaching you.
That blows me away.
Maybe that’s why I feel so strongly about this.

Because somewhere inside me is still the little boy I’ve told you about.
The one who wanted to fit in.
The one who wanted to belong.
The one who desperately wanted to be seen.
And in Message 9, I imagined that little boy eventually becoming a 90-year-old man.
Still dreaming.
Still growing.
Still chasing the man his 80-year-old self hoped he could become.
And I realized something.
Maybe that 90-year-old man doesn’t need to prove anything to the little boy anymore.
Maybe he gets to make him proud.
Because the little boy who wanted so desperately to be seen…
became a man who learned how important it is to SEE somebody else.
To listen.
To notice.
To ask the deeper question.
To sit beside somebody.
To help them understand.
To love them.
To help them feel like they matter.
And maybe part of my own healing is taking what I once desperately needed…
and giving it away.
So that’s something I want to ask you to do too.
Go make somebody feel seen.
You’ve read a lot of words from me over these last several months.
I’ve told you things that were difficult for me to share.
I’ve told you things I’m still trying to understand myself.
And I hope somewhere in all of it, you’ve understood something:
I don’t have Live Better figured out.
I don’t have LIFE figured out.
I’m still becoming.
Still learning.
Still dreaming.
Still making mistakes.
Still asking questions.
Still learning how to love.
Still learning how to receive love.
Still figuring out how to be a better husband.
A better father.
A better doctor.
A better friend.
A better man.
But I know what direction I want to move.
And I know I don’t want to do it alone.
I want to do it with people who care deeply.
Who show up.
Who are willing to do hard things.
Who ask questions.
Who listen.
Who grow.
Who love.
Who genuinely want good for the people around them.
People like YOU.

That’s why I’m so grateful you’re here.
Because the thing people feel when they walk into Live Better?
You help create it.
Every time you show up.
Every time you encourage somebody.
Every time you let someone encourage you.
Every time you bring your story honestly.
Every time you trust us enough to let us walk beside you.
Every time you do the hard thing.
Every time you take ownership.
Every time you love somebody well.
You are part of this movement.
Not because you signed up for something.
Because you’re living it.
So here’s where I want to leave you.
Not with another lesson.
With a commission.
Be present.
Ask better questions.
Listen before you assume.
Do the hard thing when the hard thing is worth doing.
Rest when rest is what you need.
Take ownership.
Ask for help.
Let people walk beside you.
Let people love you.
Learn how to receive it.
Love them back.
Keep dreaming.
Keep becoming.
See people.
Serve people.
Help somebody else feel like they matter.
Have faith when you can’t see the outcome.
Plant things you may never watch grow.
Build something the next generation can stand on.
And when you become more of the person you were created to be…
don’t keep it here.
Take it home.
Take it to work.
Take it into your relationships.
Take it into your community.
Take it wherever God has given you influence.
Spread it WIDE.
And then live it faithfully enough…
consistently enough…
lovingly enough…
that it becomes part of the story people carry after you’re gone.
Let it go DEEP.

Into your kids.
Into their kids.
Into people you’ll never meet.
Into stories that may never have your name attached to them.
And when that happens…
don’t worry about who gets the credit.
Love anyway.
Serve anyway.
Show up anyway.
Plant anyway.
Believe anyway.
Because maybe someday, somebody you’ve never met will be better because you did.
Just like me and my grandfathers.
Friend, thank you.
Thank you for trusting us.
Thank you for loving us.
Thank you for letting us love you.
Thank you for the stories.
Thank you for the lessons.
Thank you for helping me become a better version of myself.
And thank you for allowing my family, our team, and me to walk beside you and yours.
I won’t let those ripples go to waste.
Now let’s see how far they can travel.
WIDE.
DEEP.
And wherever LIFE takes you…
Go Live Better.

Dr. Joe

LIVE BETTER.